dual being, who have the remembrance of it now. Thus, between the sensation itself, the remembrance of it, and the intuitive belief of personal identity, away slips Consciousness. into thin air!

On the subject of personal identity, Dr Brown most admirably argues, that no process of reasoning can ever demonstrate it, because the very essence of every argument consists in the circumstance, that the mind, which adopts the conclusion, irresistibly believes itself to be the same mind which held the premises. Thus this belief rises above all argument, or rather, is the foundation of every reasoning process. It follows directly, that since no argument can proceed a step without it, the belief itself is intuitive, and stands on the same footing with the proposition, that the whole is greater than a part.

Our author gives many other less abstract, but not less conclusive arguments to prove the same thing, and replies to several other popular objections.

By personal identity he strictly and solely means the identity of a single principle, which feels and thinks. He combats with united argument and ridicule the notion of certain philosophers, that strict personal identity can be affected by any corporeal changes whatever, and shows that the delusion has lain in the double use of the word person, as sometimes signifying the thinking principle alone, and sometimes that and the body united.

We have thus far considered only the phenomena of the mind in general; consciousness and personal identity evidently involving all states of the mind alike. The author now proceeds to consider them in the separate classes in which they may be arranged. Dismissing as incomplete and inaccurate all former arrangements of them into powers of the understanding and of the will, and into intellectual and active powers, and so forth, he proceeds to a new distribution. The following remarks on this design appear to us very just, and constitute at once a powerful recommendation of the author's labors, as well as justification of our own humble efforts in reporting them.

'A new classification, therefore, which includes, in its generic character, those qualities, [which former classifications have neglected,] will of course draw to them attention, which they could not

otherwise have obtained; and the more various the views are, which we take of the objects of any science, the juster consequently, because the more equal, will be the estimate which we form of them. So truly is this the case, that I am convinced, that no one has ever read over the mere terms of a new division in a science, however familiar the science may have been to him, without learning more than this new division itself,-without being struck with some property or relation, the importance of which he now perceives most clearly, and which he is quite astonished that he should have overlooked so long before.' Lect. 16.

The following is the principle of the author's new classification.

The causes, or immediate antecedents of the various mental phenomena, are either foreign to the mind, or they belong to the mind itself. A change of mental state is either produced by a change in our bodily organs, or, without any cause external to itself, one state of mind is the immediate result of a former state of mind, in consequence of those laws of succession of thoughts and feelings, which were established by the Creator himself.

In conformity with this distinction, he makes his first division of the phenomena of the mind, into its external and internal affections. The class of internal affections, by far the most copious and various of the two, he subdivides into two great orders, our intellectual states of mind, and our emotions.

We have sensations or perceptions of the objects that affect our bodily organs; these he terms the sensitive or external affections of the mind. Then again we remember objects, we imagine them in new situations, we compare their relations; these he terms the intellectual states of the mind. Once more, we are moved with certain lively feelings, on the consideration of what we thus perceive, or remember, or imagine, or compare; with feelings, for example, of beauty, or sublimity, or astonishment, or love, or hate, or hope, or fear. These, and various other vivid feelings analogous to them, are our emotions.

Under the external affections of the mind, the author comprehends not only all those phenomena, or states of mind, which are commonly termed sensations, but also all our internal organic feelings of pleasure or pain, that arise from states of the nervous system, as much as our other sensations.

Many of these are commonly ranked under another head, that of appetites, such as hunger, thirst, the desire of repose, or of change of muscular position, which follows long continued exertion; the oppressive anxiety, which arises from impeded respiration, and various other diseases, the effect of bodily uneasiness. And here occurs a characteristic instance of our author's peculiar powers of abstract analysis ; an instance, if we mistake not, equally as acute, and more luminously convincing than that, which before attempted the resolution of the supposed power of consciousness. These appetites, he says, evidently admit of being analysed into two distinct elements, a pain of a peculiar species, and a subsequent desire of that which is to relieve the pain, states of mind, of which one may immediately succeed the other; but which are, unquestionably, as different in themselves, as if no such succession took place. The pain, which is one element of the appetite, is an external affection of the mind, to be classed with our other sensations; the succeeding desire, which is another element of it, is an internal affection of the mind, to be classed with our other emotions of desire. The truth is, we give one name to the combination of the two feelings, in consequence of their being so universally and immediately successive. Still, in every case, the pain is felt before the desire of relief is felt, and two states of mind manifestly compose what an imperfect analysis has hitherto presumed to be but one. All imaginable objections to these views the author arrays and removes, and we recommend the whole of these speculations [Lecture xvII.] as one of the most delightful portions of the larger work.

Besides those particular feelings of bodily uneasiness, which, as attended with desire, constitute our appetites, there are other affections of the same class, which, though not usually ranked with our external sensations or perceptions, because we find it difficult to ascribe them to any local organ, are unquestionably to be arranged under the same head; since they are feelings which arise as immediately and directly from a certain state of a part of the nervous system, as any of the feelings which we more commonly ascribe to external sense. Of this kind is that muscular pleasure of alacrity and action, which forms so great a part of the delight of the young of every species of living beings; and which is felt, though in a

less degree, at every period of life, even the most advanced; or which, when it ceases in age, only gives place to another species of muscular pleasure, that which constitutes the pleasure of ease, the same species of feeling which doubles to every one the delight of exercise, by sweetening the repose to which it leads, and thus making it indirectly as well as directly a source of enjoyment.

With respect, farther, to our muscular feelings, the author observes, that though many of them may be almost unnoticed by us during the influence of stronger sensations, they are yet sufficiently powerful, when we attend to them, to render us, independently of sight and touch, in a great measure sensible of the position of our body in general, and of its various parts; and, comparatively indistinct as they are, they become in many cases, (as in the acquired perceptions of vision, for example, and equally too in various other instances, in which little attention has been paid to them by philosophers,) elements of some of the nicest and most accurate judgments which we form.

On the whole, although our author does not formally lay down a sixth sense in addition to the ancient enumeration, he certainly presents some very strong considerations in favor of ranking our muscular feelings as a distinct, peculiar, and independent order of sensations.

The pains of appetite, our muscular feelings, and all other mental states of this class, the author appropriately denominates in his system, the Less Definite External Affections of Mind.

Having treated of these, he proceeds to what he ranks as the More Definite External Affections of Mind, which comprehend the feelings more commonly termed sensations, and universally ascribed to five particular organs of sense.

On this subject our author transfers the celebrated theory of Berkeley, as to our acquired perceptions of vision, to the information given us by our other senses. In the case of sound, there is a very evident analogy to our acquired visual perceptions; since a constant reference to place mingles with our sensations of this class, in the same manner, though not so distinctly, as in our perceptions of sight. We perceive the sound, as it were, near or at a distance, in one direction rather

than in another. But what should originally inform the infant, that the voice he hears in the next room is nearer than the voice, which sounds to him from the distance of five hundred feet? Experience, derived from his other senses, alone teaches him, in process of time, to judge with immediate and unfailing precision. The other senses the author also holds to be more or less under the same influence.

Respecting the corporeal part of the process of perception, all that is known of it the author acknowledges, is, that certain affections of the nervous system, including the brain, precede immediately certain affections of the mind. As to the nature of the connexion between these antecedents and consequents, he thinks it never will be ascertained, and he dismisses the consideration altogether from his philosophy. The various specific affections of the nervous system, as it is spread from the brain to all the organs of sense, and indeed through every part of the body, are known; the various and corresponding affections of the mind, which follow them, are also known. With these facts taken for granted, the author proceeds in his task of analysing our complicated, organic, and corresponding mental affections, and discovering and estimating the whole degree and body of knowledge, together with the intricate and often fugitive process of acquiring it, which they furnish of the external world, in which external world he includes even our organs of sense themselves.

He argues at great length, that our five senses alone are in themselves insufficient to give us any knowledge or belief of an external world of matter. In justice to him, let it be borne in mind, that he lays down the essential and constituent elements of our idea of matter to be only two, namely, Resistance and Extension. Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, meaning by touch, only the sensation connected with the superficial exterior integument that surrounds the muscular system, he contends, are nothing more than states of mind, which we might experience forever, without thinking of ascribing them to anything foreign from ourselves, in like manner as we never ascribe any of our internal joys or sorrows to an external cause. Whence then do we obtain our notion of something out of ourselves, and whence do we obtain a knowledge of matter? All our information on these points he would derive, originally, from our muscular feelings